


Of Warrants and Wine

by Wreybies



Category: Killjoys (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hindu Character, Hinduism, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Newbie!Johnny, PWP, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Canon (kinda), Recreational Drug Use, Sassy!Pree, Sexy!Dutch, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-13 23:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15375888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wreybies/pseuds/Wreybies
Summary: It's Johnny's first warrant and he gets much more than he bargained for, as an agent of the RAC and also in the sack.A return to cheeky, sassy early days of the show before it got all Hullenized.  Kickass space divas and lots of gratuitous man-candy.  ;)





	1. The Warrant

  
  
   "What the fuck are you two doing? Are you serving a warrant or trying to get in my pants?" Jensen Dezal stank to high heaven and his clothing looked like he'd found it in the gutter. Also, he was clearly on jakk. 

   "Poppet, I wouldn't touch you with his." Dutch nodded her head at Johnny, her pistol didn't move a millimeter from its target, dead center in Jensen's chest. 

   "And I wouldn't touch you with hers.” Johnny wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Or mine. Ugh! Abso-fuck'n-lutely not! Did you crawl through a latrine or something?" The reek was eye-watering and Johnny wondered if there was enough water on Lucy for the insane number of showers he wanted to take after tackling the man. This certainly wasn’t what he had pictured for his first warrant. He had imagined a chase, epic monologues, maybe some catty banter, but not _this_.

   "Fuck you, killjoy. What the hells would you know about living on the street?" Jensen spat his disdain on the floor.

   "You'd be surprised, stink-boy." Dutch curled a one-sided, feline smile at Johnny. "When I found this scruffy little puppy, he was begging for scraps, not much different than you."

   "I did **_not_** smell like that." Johnny pulled another face, but he knew this was just Dutch playing with her catch.

   "What, you’re a comedy act now? Sexy Kitty and Scruffy Puppy?" Jensen's head was twitching to one side and he was having a hard time keeping his hands behind his head.

   "He called you sexy, Dutch."

   "I **_am_** sexy, Johnny." She kissed the air in his direction with an audible chirp. At least the catty banter box could be checked. “You sure you don’t want to have a go with this one before we bring him in? You’ve been going through kind of a cock phase the past few months.”

   “What?! Cock, not... _crap!_  No way I’m touching this guy except to turn him over... to the client. Not like turn him **_over_** over. Blech!” The idea of brain-bleach suddenly sounded less deadly to Johnny than it should.

   "Can one of you just shoot me already?" Jensen's twitch was getting worse. Jakk was the scourge of the Quad, and Dutch was thankful, and not for the first time, that of the many things she had had to help Johnny with, jakk addiction hadn't been one of them. 

   "I thought you'd never ask. Johnny, this one's still yours. Low stun. I don't think his system will tolerate much more than that." Dutch made a show of eyeing down the sight of her weapon, giving Johnny the opportunity to draw his. Johnny set his weapon and took the shot. Jensen Dezal fell over unconscious. Exactly three seconds later he loudly shat his pants.

   “What the...!? Are you kidding me?” In horror, Johnny eyed the pile of shit that had just shit itself.

   Dutch holstered her weapon. “It happens, sweetie. Get used to it. Jakk addicts usually put up more of a fight. This was easy.” 

   “What do you think? He owes someone money, drugs?” asked Johnny, trying to delay the inevitable.

   “Not paid to think. Bag’um, tag’um, serve’um up hot. That’s the game until you’re a level four. Then you can serve’um up cold. Come on, waiting isn’t gonna’ make him smell any better. You take the shoulders, I’ll take the feet. Make sure the middle stays low so we don’t have any leakage.” Dutch shuddered dramatically. “We’ll hose him off before we take him onboard; else, Lucy will never forgive us.”

   “Do I have to?” Johnny did his little-boy whine.

   “If you want to play space cowboy flying around in something as sweet as Lucy, and have the best wingwoman in the Quad when a cute guy catches your eye, then yes, you have to. Drinks on me when we’re done. You bagged your first shitter, Johnny!” 

   “Why don’t I feel as excited as you sound?”


	2. The Wine

   Pree was in a sleeveless blue top, shimmering black culottes, with a silver whiplash pattern decorating the side of his head.“I hear someone lost his cherry today.”He gave Johnny a saucy look.

   “He did!” said Dutch.“The best of whatever you’ve got, Pree.It’s on me tonight.”

   “Honey, the best is right here.”Pree swept fingers down the front of his torso.“And you can’t afford it.But I’ve got some primo hokk guaranteed to knock your pretty ass sideways.

   “Bring it!” Dutch slapped the bar.“And leave the bottle.The cleanup on this job needs to be erased from my memory.”

   “Mine too.”Johnny was enjoying the attention.

   “The whole bottle?Do I need to arrange transportation for you two in advance?Or maybe a room upstairs would be better.”Pree poured out two very large drinks.

   “Ew, Pree.She’s practically my sister.”

   “I mean to just sleep it off.Now whose mind is in the gutter?”Pree rolled his eyes so fiercely, Johnny was sure they would roll clean out of his head.“Plus, charming as she inarguably is, I think she’s missing a little something if your recent history is any measure.”Pree wiggled a suggestive finger at his crotch.

   “You noticed too?”Dutch tossed back half the glass.Pree pretended to be scandalized.

   “Honey, I _have_ eyes.”Pree rested his chin on his hands, elbows to the bar, and brought the aforementioned eyes to bear piercingly on Johnny.“I can even tell you his favorite flavor.Not too tall, not too skinny.Never blond.Pretty enough to be temping, but not prettier than him, which explains why he’s never propositioned me.Rough and tumble preferred, but not necessary, and if he’s a few drinks in, he will absolutely go for the one with the word ‘trouble’ practically tattooed on his forehead.”

   Dutch tossed her head back and laughed a deep, hearty man-laugh.“Johnny, he pegged you!”She exchanged a complicated little hand-slap with Pree, the latter pulling a face of comic satisfaction.

   “You guys are great for the ego,” Johnny replied, deadpan.

   “Oh, you need a little boost, pretty boy?Pree’s got you.”Pree flicked his eyes somewhere behind them.“In the corner, at your four o’clock.No, don’t look.”His eyes slipped to Dutch.“He came in earlier to check out the male sexers. Didn’t find anything he liked.Obviously Qreshi.Poor thing thinks he passes for an Old Towner.That designer ‘dress-down’ outfit he’s sporting costs more than most people here make in a year.”

   Dutch pretended to adjust her boot so she could survey the quarry.“Yes, I think that will do nicely.Shall we double-team him?”

   “Gurl, if you only knew the times I’ve heard that!”

   “Can I look yet?”Johnny asked.

   “No.” Dutch and Pree said simultaneously.

   “He ordered my best Leith white.He didn’t get it.”From the lockbox behind the bar Pree extracted a bottle and poured out a tall flute of a pale sparkling wine.“This is it.I’m betting even Mr. Qreshi over there hasn’t had a vintage as tasty as this.”Pree scanned Johnny up and down, the entendres rolling off the bar and scattering.

   “Put it on my tab.”Dutch eyed the flute, a study in calculation.

   “No, no, sweetie.The hokk is on you.This wine is priceless.It’s not for sale.It’s for devious plans.”The two did their best dastardly laughs.

   “Oh, man...”Johnny groaned.

   “Oh, man is right.”Pree poured a very small amount of the wine into a pair of shot glasses, swirled them with practiced precision, then passed them over.

   Johnny took the small sip, letting it rest in his mouth, breathing in the taste.It opened warm and sweet, passing into floral and citrus, ending in a soft, elegant, dry perfume.

   “Hells, Pree.That is gorgeous.”Dutch eyed the bottle.

   “Yes, it is.And so are you, and Johnny, and most of all, me.” Pree tucked a non-existent curl of hair behind his ear and looked regal.“What?Honey, we are all going in the same direction and if you have the good fortune to be born pretty without having to try, own it, because it is fleeting.Now go slink your sexy self over to Mr. Qreshi and tell him this one’s on Johnny.Put your little Dutch spin on it.You know the game.Chop, chop.”Pree did a little double golf-clap.

   “Pree, if it were any other man...”The threat was mock on Dutch’s tongue.

   “Honey, there is no other man like me.You and I exist on a different plane, in a different realm.”Pree swirled his hand above his head, invoking planes and realms. “That’s why we can both be bitches and still love each other.”

   Dutch chuckled.“Don’t let him turn around until I give you the signal.”She took the flute in hand with the grace of a different persona – Dutch had many – and made her way to Mr. Qreshi.

   “Don’t worry, sunshine,” said Pree.“We would never do you wrong in matters of sex.”

   Johnny’s cheeks flamed hot, which was surprising because he was pretty sure they had already gone to their maximum setting minutes ago.

   Pree leaned in.“Listen, while it’s just the two of us, a few words.”Pree and Dutch were two cuts from the same cloth.All of Pree’s flamboyance was suddenly replaced by someone very sober and very serious.“You said she’s like a sister to you.I feel the same way, so I guess that makes the three of us family.I wasn’t sure you were going to work out at first because our Dutch is a complicated lady, and she sometimes confuses boys for projects, but she’s taken a real shine to you.Be good to her.She’s more than a pretty package, and if you hurt her, you will answer to me, understand?”

   “I’m pretty sure Dutch could kick my ass over half the Quad before she even needed to take a break.”Johnny took a sip of his hokk to hide the gulp that was threatening in his throat.

   “That’s not what I mean, John.” - not Johnny, but John -“And you know it.”

   “You didn’t think I was going to work out?”Curiosity, or the hokk, or both, got the better of Johnny.

   “Family watches out for family.You came out of nowhere, I had no idea who you were.You were just these pretty blue eyes and this dazzling smile and funny turned-up nose, but Dutch was clearly not taking you to her bed.I didn’t know what your motives were and Dutch isn’t the kind to be told anything - as I am sure you are now aware.So, I was a little worried.If you were just going to be some bedtime fun, then more power to her, but it’s a rare thing for Dutch to let someone in.” With his hand, Pree described the shape of a circle on the bartop then tapped the center.“This is a sacred space, John.”

   “What if... What if maybe I was sorta’ looking for a family because my old one is really shitty?”Johnny was horrified to feel his lower lip quiver.

   Pree wrapped his hands gently around the hand Johnny was using to hold the glass of hokk.“Then honey, you’ve found one, and while it may be a crazy one, it’s not a shitty one.If someone new comes into _your_ life, someone special, someone who stays, you can bet I’ll be having this same conversation with him about you.That’s how it works.Okay?”

   “Okay.”

   “Good.Oh, just got the signal.Show time! Best smile, brightest eyes, don’t overdo it on the hello wave.Be cool.Now turn....”Pree’s attention shifted to a space behind Johnny.

   Johnny turned and everything he meant to do or say took a hard reboot.Pree was right. Mr. Qreshi would never pass for an Old Towner.His clothes were just a costume.Beneath the pretend veneer of grubby-chic, the man seemed to glow.Bronze skin, huge dark eyes under dramatic eyebrows, tightly manicured beard and mustache, his hair a wave of glossy midnight curls.And back to the eyes.Johnny was accustomed to people making a fuss over his own; he’d learned to tune it out.Now he knew what all the fuss was about.

   The moment stretched.

   Pree cleared his throat.

   The man from Qresh took control of the situation.

   “You are a man of taste, Mr. Jaqobis.I would not have thought such a privileged vintage would be available on Westerly.”There was a lilt to the man’s voice that was hard to place.Definitely Qreshi, but there was a secondary story that his voice was telling.

   Johnny said, “Look, um, my friends...”

   “Are very honest, it seems.This beautiful woman was just telling me that tonight is a celebration of sorts for you.”He held up the flute.“And an invitation of _this_ quality is cause for intrigue.She also told me you were quite handsome.”He turned to Dutch.“An understatement.”He held a hand out to Johnny.“My name is Ishaan.”


	3. The Invitation

   Pree poured out the last of the wine for Ishaan.It occurred to Johnny that the bottle probably represented a small fortune in either money or favors and the earlier conversation with Pree got re-filtered in that moment.

_Do right by us and we’ll do right by you, in any way we can.And to prove it, we’ll go first._

   It was all a little surreal.Johnny had no doubt this was what a family was _supposed_ to feel like, but since he’d never really felt it, it was strange and vulnerable.  How many nights, how many bars, sitting in a corner, disconnected, feeling like an intruder crashing someone else's party, waiting to get told to leave, _you don't belong here_.  And he would have gone because there had been no one there to say _no, he's with us_. 

   Dutch was on fire. She wasn't flirting so much as selling the moment, the idea.  Pree tended to his customers, but after every sale and drink poured, he came back to their little group, making it clear who the "it crowd" was, the inner circle, the people who were more than customers, they were friends. Johnny took it all in and realized this was what it felt like to be on the inside, not on the outside looking in. This was what it felt like to belong, to have a place and people and know that when you arrived you would be welcomed and a seat would be made available for you. 

   Pree caught Johnny's eye and Johnny had the uncanny notion that what he was feeling, what he was thinking, was obvious to the other man.

   Pree waggled the empty bottle at Johnny while Dutch and Ishaan were in an animated discussion regarding her hair.“All right, sweetie.I worked my magic.The rest is up to you.”Out of nowhere he produced a key and slipped it into Johnny’s hand.“The security door in the back that no one’s allowed to enter?This key opens that door and the one you'll find at the end of the hall.If it’s on the table, feel free to drink it, but be careful with the blue bottle. Professionals only. Have fun.”He tapped Johnny gently on the chest then turned to Dutch.

   “Dutch, you’ve got that meeting with your boss or whatever in the morning, don’t you?”Pree flashed his eyes large to get her attention.

   “The what?Oh.Oh, yes.The meeting.Yes, Pree.Thank you for reminding me.Ishaan, lovely meeting you, but I have a meeting where I have to meet...” She looked to Pree for a rescue.

   “Your boss,” Pree sang.

   “Yes, my boss.Again, lovely to meet you.” She turned to Johnny and gave him a hug.“Love you, Johnny.I want details tomorrow,” she whispered to him.

   Realizing this wasn’t going to end cleanly, Pree swooped in.“Come on, drunk kitty.Let’s get you home.Jackson, can you lock up tonight?”Without waiting for a response, Pree escorted a wobbly Dutch out the door and into the night.

   “Your friends are wonderful, Johnny.”He’d gone from Mr. Jacobis to John to Johnny in the course of the bottle of wine and the better part of the hokk Dutch had purchased.“They must care for you very much; else, you are all rich enough not to care.This wine shouldn’t even _be_ on Westerly and your friend didn’t flinch to spend it on you.”

   “Yeah, they’re more than friends.It’s all kinda’ new, but they’re family.I think that was the point of tonight.”

   Ishaan was suddenly very close.Johnny’s newly forming RAC instincts kicked up alarms, but there was no hidden knife or blaster.There was instead a deep, languid, sensual kiss.For several seconds, all Johnny understood was lips and tongue and a warm hand under his arm, around his chest, pulling him close.

   “Yeah, yeah, yeah.Break it up you two.The crowd is getting jealous.”Jackson dropped a rag on the bar and pretended to clean.“Pree gave you the key, right Johnny?”

   Johnny nodded yes.

   “Don’t worry about cleaning up in the morning, but try to be gentle.”Jackson nodded his head to the forbidden door, urging them to skedaddle.

   “Ishaan, I think Pree gave me...”

   “Yes, your friend’s generosity continues.I don’t see how we can refuse without giving insult.”His smile was blazing.


	4. The Consummation

   There are bad kissers and good kissers and great kissers. Ishaan was an artist of kissing. Johnny came up for air. 

   “Seriously, did you go to school to learn that?” he exclaimed.

   “It helps considerably when you’re inspired,” Ishaan replied. “Also, it’s only as good as this when both people are good kissers.”

   “Okay, so, there’s no pretty way to say this, but you’re a lot less dickish then most Qreshi I’ve met.”

   Ishaan laughed softly. “Not _every_ Qreshi is one of the Nine, and I’m not originally Qreshi.”

   “That explains the accent. What’s going on there?” Johnny’s interest was split between the answer to that question and the beautiful tone of Ishaan’s skin, the dark nipple he was gently caressing, and the near-frictionless quality of Pree’s sheets.

   “It’s complicated. My family is from outside the Quad. A business arrangement created an opportunity for us to settle on Qresh when I was very young, but you know how Qreshi are. You’re either truly Qreshi or you’re not, and those who  _are_  never let those who  _aren’t_  forget the fact.”

   “Yeah, that would be the dickishness I was talking about.”

   “Yes, well. I’m always a stranger in a strange land. On Qresh I’m not Qreshi; anywhere else in the Quad, I am. Nowhere to stand and say ‘I am from here’ without someone to argue otherwise.” Ishaan’s immense mahogany eyes unfocused in introspection.

   “Ishaan, my own past is pretty crazy. So is my present, but it’s a much better kind of crazy. I don’t care where you’re from. I’m just happy you’re here with me.” Johnny caressed his cheek to draw his attention back to the moment. “Change of subject. What exactly did Dutch say to you when she brought you the wine?”

   “You really want to know?”

   “Uh, yeah.”

   Ishaan cleared his throat. “She said, ‘I’m supposed to be telling you that this incredible glass of wine is from a rich snobby asshole sitting over at the bar. He’s actually not rich or snobby or an asshole. He’s my brother and we’re celebrating him tonight. He’s a little goofy – actually he’s a lot goofy – but I promise you he’s drop-dead gorgeous, really funny, and if you were looking for company tonight, you couldn’t ask for better than him.’ Then she gave me the wine, which was insanely good, and poured herself into the chair across from me.”

   “She said all that? And you took her at her word?”

   “She did. And, yes. I figured that any guy hanging out with a woman as beautiful as Dutch has to be a catch. And that wine... The Nine would kill each other to get their hands on it.” Ishaan wrapped his arm under Johnny to get him to lay on top of him. “And she didn’t come with some inane story I would have seen right through.  Like I said, very honest.”

   Ishaan apparently didn’t need to breathe and could extract oxygen directly from Johnny’s lips. He pushed Johnny up a bit, taking advantage of his tallness, in order to slip his hands between them, hold their cocks together and stroke them in unison. Johnny groaned into Ishaan’s mouth. Minutes passed. Johnny’s senses trimmed their inputs to just lips and hands and cock.

   Ishaan pushed Johnny up and said, “Hand me the little red pot.” Ishaan had casually placed it on the table next to the bed earlier. Johnny gave it to him. Ishaan rubbed the tip of his finger across the surface of whatever was inside and then snaked his hand down between his legs.

   “If that’s lube, I think we may need more.”

   “We won’t. It’s ultralube.” He closed the little pot and let it drop next to him on the bed. His hands went to Johnny’s ass, pressing him in, looking Johnny square in the eye from under lush lashes. Johnny slipped his arms under Ishaan’s shoulders, bracing himself, the tip of his cock finding Ishaan’s entry and slipping in.

   So warm. The ultralube had to be adding to the heat. No human body was this warm.

   Ishaan grabbed Johnny’s knees toward him, hitching his pelvis up into Johnny, perfecting the angle of entry so as to engage Johnny’s full length. “ _Nnnnnnngggg_. Fuck!”

   Johnny leaned down to hold Ishaan; Ishaan pushed him back.

   “No, like this. I want to watch you fuck me, Johnny. I want to see your whole body.”

   “Yeah?”

   “Yes."

   “Like this?” Johnny pressed in, pulled out slowly and then back.

   “Like that, yes.” Ishaan stroked his own cock. It was much darker than Johnny’s. The contrast of their two bodies, alabaster against olive against the silvery sheen of the sheets was beautiful. Johnny long-stroked him, caressing his chest, his stomach, his legs. Ishaan moaned and sighed his appreciation. Johnny wished he were more flexible as the thought of taking Ishaan’s cock into his mouth _while_ he was fucking him struck him as a grand idea.

   Ishaan grabbed Johnny’s thighs, his hands propelled Johnny’s legs forward, urging him to pick up the pace.

   “You want it harder?” Johnny panted out.

   “Yes. Do it. You’re not going to hurt me,” Ishaan growled.

   Johnny put one hand behind himself to brace, the other took over stroking Ishaan’s cock. It throbbed in Johnny’s hand. Ishaan arched his back, pushed into Johnny’s lap, his eyes rolling up. Ishaan’s sac drew up tight and Johnny knew the moment was at hand. He slammed into Ishaan, stroking him hard. Ishaan gave a strangled cry and the muscles of his ass clamped tight around Johnny. Ishaan’s cock pulsed wildly, the jets of seed landing on his stomach, his chest, his face, the pillows behind his head.

   “Hells, dammit...” The hot clamp of Ishaan’s ass drew Johnny in, demanding its due. Johnny was helpless but to succumb. He came so hard it almost hurt. He lost control of his legs as the volleys shot again and again, filling Ishaan. Under any other circumstance, Johnny would have sworn he was suffering a small stroke. He fell forward into Ishaan who embraced him with arms and legs. He held Johnny until the shaking stopped.

   Johnny was breathing so hard he felt his vision narrow, on the cusp of passing out from hyperventilation.

   “I love your friends, Johnny,” Ishaan whispered into his ear.

   “Not that I disagree,” Johnny panted. “But why?”

   “For making this happen.”

* * *

    “Pree said anything on the table is free game but  _that_  bottle is for ‘professionals only’, whatever that means.” Johnny scanned the array of decanters.

   Ishaan un-stoppered the small blue bottle and sniffed the contents. “Oh. He’s not kidding. That’s  _sizzle_. Leave that alone.” Ishaan replaced the bottle with the care one would give to unstable explosives.

   “How about this?” A heavy silver box inlaid with stones that screamed money held a number of hand-rolled cigarettes. “Kef?”

   Ishaan held the box to his nose. “Good kef. Yes!”

   The kef rolled in soft and warm as a summer afternoon on Leith. The mild headache that had started to rise as the hokk-buzz wore off vanished into the hills. Johnny melted into a deep green baroque divan in the middle of the large, one-room apartment; Ishaan relaxed into Johnny. Pale hands came around and caressed the tan skin of Ishaan's broad chest and flat stomach, curling through the patch of crisp silk above his sex.

   “That feels wonderful,” Ishaan sighed into the air.

   “Yes, it does,” Johnny whispered into Ishaan’s ear from behind him.

   Ishaan took another pull of the kef, leaned his head back to meet Johnny’s lips. They passed the rich smoke back and forth until Johnny felt dizzy. The final exhale was nearly invisible.

   “I am _so_ high right now,” said Johnny and they laughed softly.

   Minutes passed without count and without need for words. Touches, caresses, kisses were a language unto themselves. Johnny wondered why people ever needed to talk at all when they could do this instead. 

   “Dutch said you tried to steal her ship. That’s how you met. Is that true?” Ishaan murmured.

   “Yep. True. Dumbest mistake ever, but also the best mistake. I was on the street, stealing, doing whatever I had to. Now I have a job, all the tech toys a boy could ask for...”

   “And good friends,” Ishaan finished for him. “Real friends. I envy you, Johnny. I don’t know how long I’m going to be on Westerly, but I wouldn’t mind spending my time here with you, if that’s all right.”

   Johnny answered with his hands gripping Ishaan’s reawakened cock, with his mouth and tongue pressing into Ishaan’s neck. The kef was a warm breeze, a pillow, a cloud, a palliative, and an aphrodisiac.

   “I would like that very much,” Johnny purred into his ear. “Right now I would like it if you spent some time inside me. Go get the ultralube.”

   Padding to the other side of the room, Ishaan’s ass was round and high and gorgeous. Johnny sank further into the divan, flooded with contentment.


	5. The Caffeination

   “Four times?”Dutch had bed-head like only Dutch could.“Sore?”She grinned into her coffee.

   “In the best way possible.”Johnny wasn’t sure if he was still feeling the kef or if it was something else.Either way, he felt euphoric.“I’ve never had someone kiss me like that.It went on for hours.If Pree hadn’t finally kicked us out, I’d still be there kissing him.”

   “Gonna’ see him again?”

   “Tonight, if that’s okay?”Johnny blew on his coffee to cool it.

   “Sweetie, after this coffee I’m taking something for this headache and crawling my sorry ass back to bed.Take the next couple of days off.”She put a hand to the side of her head to emphasize the headache. 

   Johnny slipped one of the kef joints across the table and winked.

   “Kef?Naughty, naughty.”Dutch took the joint all the same.

   “I figured you might need something today.But seriously, Dutch, thanks.Last night was special.Not just with Ishaan, but everything that led up to him.”

   Even bedraggled, bed-headed, with pillow wrinkles on her face, Dutch’s smile was radiant.“I wanted to make sure you remembered your first time.You’re doing really well, Johnny.I want you to _know_ it, not just believe it.”Another sip of coffee and then, “So what are you two up to later?Plans?”

   “Not really.I thought maybe we could get something to eat, maybe walk the market.”Johnny wasn’t really sure at all. 

   “Take him to Claude’s.Did he say how long he’s going to be on Westerly?”Her left brow furrowed down. 

   “He said he wasn’t sure.”

   “Okay.You need some extra money?”

   “I’m good, but thanks.”

   Across the table she took Johnny’s free hand in hers.“Have fun, Johnny.Really, have fun.But don’t get your heart broken.He’s Qreshi and it sounds pretty clear he’ll be going back at some point.Just be careful with _you_ , okay?”

   “I know, I know.”Even Johnny wasn’t convinced by the tone of his voice.

   Dutch gave her _I’ve said what I was going to say_ face, tucked the kef behind an ear and got up to leave, mug of coffee in hand.“I’m going back to bed.Love you.”To the ceiling, she said, “Lucy, disturb me for anything less than planetary destruction and I dismantle you for parts, understood?”

   “ _Understood, Dutch,_ ” Lucy responded in her usual unflappable tone.

   Johnny sat alone and didn’t finish his coffee.His head said Dutch was right.She was always right.His heart was telling his head to _shut the hells up, and have you noticed that Dutch doesn’t have the best track record regarding guys?_ It occurred to him he hadn’t slept at all and could use a few hours of bunk time himself. 

   “Lucy, wake me up in six hours.I have a date tonight.”Johnny dumped his coffee in the sink and made for his room.

   “ _Will do, Johnny.Good for you._ ”


	6. The Dinner

   Ishaan held his hands together in front of his face, his nose and mouth tucked into the space between index fingers and thumbs.“ _Ahum vaishva naro bhutva praninaam deha maashritah.Pranaapaana samaayukta pachamyannam chaturvidham_ ,” he whispered.

   “Uh… okay.What was that?”The journey from plate to mouth having been interrupted by Ishaan’s opaque words, Johnny lowered his fork feeling inexplicably inappropriate.

   Ishaan smiled his beatific smile at Johnny, a smile made more of eyes than lips, laid his napkin carefully on his lap, and said, “Just acknowledging the blessings that come to us.”

   “I have never heard a scarback say words like that.”Johnny waited for Ishaan to take a bite of food before proceeding.

   “There are things in the universe older than scarbacks, Johnny.” 

   “Have you ever taken a blessing from a scarback monk?”

   “Yes, certainly.”He chewed his food thoughtfully before continuing.“My beliefs are different from theirs, but I think they have wisdom and they understand interconnectedness.Words are just a way to convey what is in our minds and hearts.We can say different things and still feel the same things.”

   Johnny felt very young and small under the weight of Ishaan’s words.Did he have any beliefs?He knew the scarback words and ceremonies, but it was an academic knowledge.The times he had been present for a blessing, he had said the words more out of a sense of not wanting to stand out in his silence than anything else. 

   Johnny’s thoughts must have been plain on his face.

   “You call Dutch your sister.”Ishaan pointed his fork at Johnny.“Do you share a mother or father?Did you grow up together?”

   “No,” Johnny replied

   “Then why do you call her sister?”

   “Because I love her.”

   “We love many things, Johnny, but we don’t call them sister or brother.”

   Johnny thought a moment.“Because she helped me when I needed it and didn’t ask for anything.Because she forgives my fuck-ups.Because she’s always there for me.”

   Ishaan nodded in approval.“So then for you sister means unconditional love, yes?”

   “I guess it does.”

   “See?Sister.Unconditional love.Two ways to say the same thing, equally valid, both pointing to the same feeling.”He tapped his chest.“That’s a good meaning to give that word.I like it.I have three sisters.I would do anything for them.Anything.When I see them again I will tell them that I met a wonderful man on Westerly who told me sister means unconditional love.”

   “I have a real brother.It’s not very unconditional between us.”Johnny pushed the food around on his plate, his mouth twisted to the side in frustration.

   “Then fix it.Your definition is good.Don’t throw it away because your relationship needs repair.”

   They ate in awkward silence.

   Memories of growing up on Telen, his brother D’avin, and his father grew and broiled in Johnny’s mind. 

   “I’m sorry.I didn’t mean to upset you,” said Ishaan.

   “Nah, it’s just… It’s a lot to fix.Hard to know where to even start.”Johnny took a deep breath and blew it out noisily.“Plus, D’avin, my brother, took off.I don’t have a clue where he is.” 

   Ishaan nodded silent understanding. 

   “Change of subject,” said Johnny.“What are you doing on Westerly.You said you were here as an emissary, but that’s a _who you are_ , not a _what you’re doing_.” 

   “I’m here to deliver and return a contract.That’s where I was today, delivering.”

   “In person?Who does that?”Johnny squirreled his face, perplexed. 

   “Kalla Seyon Trus.And not exactly in person.He sent me.”Ishaan pushed his empty plate a symbolic quarter inch away.

   That gave Johnny pause.“You work for Land Trus?”

   “In several capacities, yes,”said Ishaan.“Everyone on Qresh works for the Nine in one way or another, Johnny.I just work a little closer than most.”

   “What’s _that_ like?”A server came and took their plates away.

   Ishaan shrugged.“Like anything, there’s good and bad.”

   “I don’t think I could do it.All that kowtowing.”Johnny wrinkled his nose.

   “Yesterday you had to clean a man who shit himself, and then your friends threw you a little party.”He tipped his head slightly to one side.“Good and bad.”

   Johnny chuckled.“Yeah, I see what you mean.”

   A severe-looking blonde woman approached their table.Her ponytail was tight enough to give her a temporary facelift.“Ishaan Kapadia?”

   Ishaan’s expression sank.“Yes?”

   “The contracts are signed.”She handed him a large antiquated looking folder that was sealed with actual sealing wax.She flicked a disdainful look in Johnny’s direction, which Johnny returned in kind.“Seyon Trus will expect you tomorrow.You _will_ hand-deliver the contracts to him without fail.”

   “Understood.”Ishaan’s voice conveyed defeat.

   She cast another look at Johnny - the kind typically reserved for roaches - and sauntered out of the restaurant. 

   “So…” Johnny trailed off.

   “Yes.I’m sorry.I thought we would have more time.”Ishaan slumped back into his chair and eyed the folder.

   “How did you she find you?”asked Johnny.

   Ishaan wiggled his communicator as a response. 

   “What if I take you home?”Johnny asked.

   Ishaan’s right eyebrow raised with expert independence. 

   “I mean to Qresh, tomorrow.We can take you in Lucy.”Johnny slid his hands across the table, palms up, entreating Ishaan to take them, which he did.“I also mean tonight.My bunk on Lucy isn’t Pree’s apartment by a long-shot, but…” 

   “As long as Johnny Jaqobis is there, that’s all that matters.”

 


	7. The Homecoming

“ _Dutch, we’re being contacted_ ,”Lucy announced.

“Put it through.”Dutch had made it clear to Johnny that he was to remain silent through the approach.Listen and learn only. 

“Approaching RAC ship, you are on an unscheduled entry to Land Trus.State the nature of the warrant you are serving,” a male voice spoke over the ship’s intercom.

“Land Trus, we are not serving a warrant.This is a courtesy delivery of one Ishaan Kapadia in the service of Kalla Seyon Trus.Mr. Kapadia has cleared the delivery with Land Trus, authorization bravo tango three seven two seven, please copy.”

There was a pause that lasted long enough for Dutch, Johnny, and Ishaan to exchange apprehensive glances.

“RAC ship, authorization confirmed.Entry vector and docking instructions being sent now.Follow the course to the letter; else, you will be shot down.I suggest you allow your ship A.I. to handle it from here, copy.”

“Copy that.Will comply.”Dutch closed the channel.“Lucy, you have the instructions?”

“ _Yes, Dutch.Would you like me to take over?_ ”

“Do your thing, girl.”The controls recessed flat into the panel as Lucy took control of the flight. 

“Such a warm, welcoming feeling I’m getting,”Johnny goofed.

* * *

 

The heels of their boots tapped loudly down the wide expanse of a hall.Dark floors gave way to pristine white walls and a barrel-vaulted ceiling high above. 

“Johnny, when Ishaan enters, remain with me and don’t say anything.Stand the way I stand, look forward, say nothing.If Kalla Seyon asks us to enter, look down as you approach.There will be a silver line on the floor.Toe that line, do _not_ pass it, and say nothing unless you are spoken to.Address him as Seyon Trus.Every time.Without exception.Understand?”

“Wow.Okay.I understand.Sheesh.” 

Ishaan said, “You know the form well, Dutch.You have dealt with the Nine before?”

“Occasionally.They aren’t my first royals,” Dutch replied.

“Hm,” Ishaan said in interest, but let the matter go.They had arrived. 

Two guards in white uniforms carrying glossy white firearms stood to either side of the large double doors.

Johnny quietly mouthed, “ _Matchie_ matchie.”

Dutch flared her eyes at him to shut up.She struck a pose with her feet at shoulder width and her hands held in front of her.Johnny followed suit. 

In a loud voice, Ishaan said, “Kalla Seyon Trus, Ishaan Kapadia requests entry to your presence.” 

From behind the closed doors came the word, “Come.”

The guards each took a door and opened them wide.Kalla Seyon Trus sat behind a massive dark wood desk inlaid with large areas of mother-of-pearl in deep niobium shades of blue, green, red, and purple.Johnny could only imagine the size of the shell that would have given up such large sheets.

Seyon Trus was an older man.In contrast to the ostentation of the surroundings, he dressed simply.He was focused on papers he had on his desk.The blond woman from the other night at the restaurant stood behind him next to a large curved window that gave on to a view of the ocean.She was in the same pose Dutch had shown him. 

Ishann entered the room and stopped in front of the desk.Seyon Trus held up his hand without looking up from his papers and took the folder Ishaan passed to him. 

“Don’t be rude, Ishaan.Tell your friends to come in.”Seyon Trus had the voice Johnny expected for a man of his age.Nothing exceptional about it other than the typical Qreshi tone of bored indifference. 

Ishaan looked over his shoulder and nodded them in.Johnny followed Dutch and sure enough, there was the silver line on the floor.Johnny tried his best to look like he was stopping there as naturally as Dutch, who seemed to have measured her steps to within a nanometer of the line.Her eyes were forward.Johnny followed her lead, not wanting to disappoint. 

“Is this the man?”It wasn’t clear to whom he was speaking, but it was the blond woman who answered.

“Yes, Seyon Trus.”

Finally, he looked up and regarded Johnny with small pale blue eyes.His lips were pursed in annoyance.“Well, you _are_ pretty.I’ll give you that.”He leaned back into his opulent chair and sighed heavily through his nose.“Did you have fun with my Ishaan?”

Johnny didn’t know what to say.It was an ambush.Initial panic gave way to irritation gave way to fury. 

Johnny looked the Seyon directly in the eye.“Yes, Seyon Trus.Four times, as a matter of fact.”Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dutch close her eyes in dismay at how badly this was going.

To his credit, Seyon Trus didn’t flinch at the insolence.“I should hope so.He’s had the best training in the J, haven’t you, Ishaan?None of the Nine have a body servant quite of his caliber.I’m sure he entranced you with his kisses and those long, long lashes of his.” 

From behind Ishaan, all Johnny could see was his head tip forward slightly.When he remained silent, Seyon Trus laced his fingers in front of him and said, “Take them.”

They never heard the guards come up behind them.Not even Dutch had noticed.Something touched the side of Johnny’s neck and a granular electric sensation ran up his neck and head and Johnny departed to parts unknown. 


	8. The Expatriation

   Dutch awoke with a headache and a stiff neck.Stun guns and cold steel plate floors will do that to even the sharpest princess assassin. She took stock of the room. It was more like a ship container, really. Metal floors curved seamlessly up into the metal walls. She sat up, gingerly cradling her head and leaned against the cool metal behind her.

   Anger erupted at Johnny’s rashness but was quickly extinguished by a cold, rubbery guilt. It never would have happened had she not introduced them, and she should have known better than to agree to the personal delivery of a Qreshi citizen directly to one of the Nine. They were cantankerous at the best of times, homicidal at their worst. All things considered, the fact that she was still alive boded somewhat well. The favors Seyon Trus would have to cash in to cover her disappearance or murder would amount to pocket-change in his eyes.No, this was more complex and also much simpler than murder.This was jealousy, and worse, the jealousy of a man for whom the only time the answer was ever correctly _no_ was when the question was _do your powers have a limit_.

   She could deal with that. Men like that always had the same flaw. They were blinded by their seeming omnipotence. They built their walls, hired their guards, set their traps, and then leaned back into golden thrones of assurance. But gold is a soft metal and that softness tends to rub off on the men who collect it.

   She had escaped from savvier men, men who were smarter because they did not think themselves immortal, because they knew they had something to lose. She had escaped them and she would escape this man too. The trick was going to be getting Johnny out alive with her.

   A needle of shame and hypocrisy poked under her ribs. She knew Seyon Trus’s blind spot, but he had also guessed hers. Johnny with the pretty eyes and goofy smile. Johnny who was so, so smart and so, so stupid at the same time. He wore guyliner that no man with eyes like those could ever need. He tried in vain to appear like a tough guy, but one shimmer of that smile and the meager veneer of street hardness melted like frost on a window. Something had happened to him when he was young, something that took the sweetest boy you could ask to meet and flung him into the void. She understood what that felt like, what it meant to be at the mercy of forces bigger, and meaner, and uglier than you. But miraculously, he was still innocent, the boy he had been was still alive in him, and she loved him and envied him for that.

_And that was your mistake, Yalena._

_No. Fuck that_ , she said to the voice in her head. Johnny was _not_ a mistake. He was the best thing in her life, the reason to hope that there was still something good inside of her. She knew it was something different when she’d wanted him to stay, but didn’t have the slightest wish to sleep with him, and when he reciprocated, needing her, but not in _that_ way, she knew there was something new here, something special.

    _You’re not a mistake, Johnny, but you certainly can be a pain in the ass_.

   That felt better, more right. She smiled in the dark and let her head lean back where it thunked on the wall.

   The wall thunked back.

   She knocked the wall with her knuckles.Two nocks, pause, then two more knocks. _Johnny?_

   Three knocks back. _Yes._ Then five quick knocks. _You okay?_

   She returned the same five quick knocks. _Okay._ Then a complex set of knocks she prayed he remembered. _Do nothing. I’ll get you._

   Three knocks. _Yes_.Five knocks. _Okay_.

   She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the door opened.Two armed guards came in followed by a young woman with olive skin and Ishaan’s face in feminine form.She was just as pretty as Ishaan, if not more.She wore a gorgeous dress in bright colors with a sash. Under different circumstances, Dutch would have admired the dress, asked her where she got it, perhaps enjoyed this woman’s company, but not now, not here.The woman held a tray with food.Dutch’s stomach grumbled and she realized there was no knowing how long she’d gone without eating.

   The woman remained silent, but her huge eyes spoke. Recognition. This must be one of Ishaan’s sisters. Dutch calculated the probability that her presence was just random or a facet of her usual tasks and discarded the idea. She asked herself what was more probable, that Seyon Trus was dangling her in front of Dutch’s eyes, a dare, or that Ishaan had found a way for her to be the one to bring her food. More likely the former, but the latter was not discardable.Maybe the young woman had acted on her own. Was that the message she saw in her large eyes?

 _If that’s true, gods, you’re brave_ , Dutch thought.

   “Thank you,” she said to the young woman, hoping she heard the extent of that thank-you.

   “It is my pleasure and my duty,” the woman replied. “Whatever you don’t eat, just leave _for me_.”

   The emphasis had been almost inaudible, but Dutch heard it. _For me_. 

   Dutch nodded her thanks and the three left the room. 

   There were no eating utensils. Obviously, they weren’t going to give her anything that could be used as a weapon, but Dutch was sure something was here for her.She lifted the lid and found the container within was divided into two compartments.There was a fragrant stew that smelled delicious and there were strips of flatbread that had been toasted to a firm crunch.She used the flatbread to scoop up the stew and ate slowly and carefully, inspecting every bite with her tongue.On her third pass, she found it.A small oblong lozenge.She tucked it into her cheek and finished the stew, assuming there was a camera on her.She finished and pushed the tray close to the door. 

   She coughed and palmed the lozenge.She worked the capsule open one-handedly and felt the curl of metal within.It was a snap syringe.You unrolled it and then popped the springy metal along its length and it became rigged.The short needle would protrude when the bladder that lined the metal was squeezed. 

   How she could use it was obvious.What was less obvious was the _for me_ the woman had said.

   And then it crystallized for Dutch.

 _For me. Hit the guards and then me too; else, they will know I helped you_. 

   Dutch prayed whatever was in this syringe wasn’t deadly.

   She waited and planned her move.

 

* * *

 

   Johnny heard a disturbance coming from somewhere outside the door to his cell.It sounded kickie and punchie and very, very Dutchie.It came to a stop just outside his door and then the door opened.Outside stood a sweaty Dutch and a guard in a headlock.She had his palm pressed to what was clearly a hand sensor next to the door. 

   “Come on then, sunshine. This place is a dive. I want my money back.” She let the guard drop and he sagged to the floor as limp as overcooked pasta.

   Johnny scrambled up and out of the room, into the hallway.There was a trail of guards in assorted states of having had their asses handed to them.Dutch pointed the way and Johnny followed.They made two left turns and Johnny saw a young woman in a brightly colored dress on the floor next to two more unconscious guards. 

   Johnny saw her face and said, “Dutch, that must be…”

   “It is,” she cut him off. “She’ll be fine. I’ll explain the rest when there’s time. Right now, we need to get out of here and find Lucy.”

   “But why is she…”

   Dutch held up a finger, cutting him off with finality.

   “I said later. Suffice to say that you owe her more than you know.Now let's go.”

 


	9. The Repatriation

They made it out of the cellblock portion of Seyon Trus’s palace with an ease that set Dutch’s teeth on edge. The least they could do was make it _look_ like there wasn’t a trap set somewhere ahead, but as much as the Nine worshipped form and punctilio, somehow subtlety escaped them.

They hid behind a hedgerow manicured to laser precision. It likely _was_ lasers that kept its perfect geometry. The same lasers could serve as intrusion deterrence.

She looked silently at Johnny.

“Yes, I know. Too easy. Trap ahead. Other assorted clichés to follow,” he whispered.

“Stay low and follow me,” she replied.

“Assorted cliché number two, check.” Johnny had a gift for snark, but he did as he was told because Dutch had an even better gift for staying alive in situations that would end most people.

The hedge led to a long driveway, which led to an ornate entry gate in the wall around the palace. There was little cover once they reached the end of the hedge save for a line of immensely wide palm trees.

“We’re going to have to break into the open here, Johnny. I’m sure we’re under surveillance, so…” She thought a moment. “We may as well just face it head-on. Whatever comes, comes. If we take fire, make for one of those palm trees, understood?”

He nodded understanding. His prior snark was gone, replaced by a pale gravity concerning the danger.

They stood and walked toward the gate, making no further attempt to hide their presence. Dutch prayed the bravado would confuse whatever plan was in store, either underestimating their intelligence or maybe thinking they had weapons that they did not in fact possess.

Approaching the second to last palm before the entry gate, the severe blond woman Dutch recognized from Seyon Trus’s office - and whom Johnny recognized from his dinner with Ishaan - stepped out from her hiding spot.

She was dressed in a flat black long-sleeved unitard. She clearly had no weapons, but the look on her face said she wasn’t concerned.

“Textbook baddie fight suit. Cliché number three, check,” Dutch said, a frown pulling her lips down.

“You’re one to talk about clichés,” said the blond woman. “Pretty little princess and her sidekick bite off more than they can chew when the sidekick hooks up with the king’s favorite boy-toy.”

“That’s a little too complicated to be a cliché, but point taken,” Dutch’s tone was condescending. Johnny knew that tone. He backed up a few feet. A lot of acrobatic kicking and punching was about to take place and he had a feeling the blond woman would give Dutch a good fight.

He wasn’t wrong.

Dutch aimed high with a reverse roundhouse kick. The woman ducked low, easily missing the kick. She tried to knock Dutch’s feet out from under her with a fast, low sweeping kick. It also failed. Dutch now had an idea of her opponent’s speed, which was good. Dutch came in close, boxing the woman back with fast jabbing punches. The woman batted each aside with little trouble.

“I’m not the enemy here,” the woman said when Dutch was close.

Dutch paused for a fraction of a second. She came in again, fierce and hard. In between punches, she asked, “Who is?”

The woman took the offense and came in with her own volley of punches. Dutch grabbed her arm and pulled her in tight, curling around her, trying to pin the woman’s arm up behind her back.

“You know who is. Seyon Trus. I gave Saanchi the snap syringe to pass to you.” She flipped out from Dutch’s embrace, landing square on her feet.

 _This place is completely fucked up_ , thought Dutch. Again, the pinch of guilt that she was the one who had set this in motion. She would never again let Johnny so much as look at anyone with a Qreshi accent. There were plenty of pretty Old Town men (and women) with whom Johnny could rumple the sheets. They were rougher and tougher, but their rough edges were simple, their problems were manageable and on a human scale. None of this palace intrigue. More punches came. More kicks were doled out. She remembered escaping her own palace, the one where she would have reigned supreme of only she had been willing to give up everything that made her who she really was.

And as that thought took her out of the moment, the blond woman landed a punch that brought the ground up to meet Dutch in a hurry.

Suddenly the blond’s hand was on Dutch’s neck, she was leaning over her with a mask of determination pulling her already severe face into a grimace.

“Make it look good, killjoy,” she whispered. The hand that was at Dutch’s throat let go and slipped something under the top of her shirt. “Out the gate, to the left, straight on and don’t stop until you see the landing pad. You’re on your own after this. We’ve done what we could. Tell your friend to leave it be. Ishaan will be okay, but don’t ever come back here.”

Yes, this was royal life. Secrets and lies. The face you wore at court to mask the desires you held for yourself. Silent allegiances. Trusts betrayed. It sickened her that Ishaan and his family were stuck in this hell, yet, at least, it seemed they had friends willing to risk much to help them.

From the ground, Dutch swung her far leg up, wrapped the woman’s neck with her knee, and threw her to the ground. She landed hard, with a sickening thump. She was unconscious. Dutch felt for a pulse. She was alive.

“Let’s go,” she said to Johnny whose presence had only just come back into focus.

They ran for the gate.

A hum filled the air and there was a smell of ozone.

A hot sliver of agony raked her leg.

   Yep, lasers.

“Run!” she screamed at Johnny.

He bolted, his face pulled back in fear. She ran after him. Her leg throbbed. There was no time to look now. It would just make matters worse. She could still run, so it couldn’t be too bad, could it?

Johnny grabbed his arm, a puff of smoke trailing behind him. The sound that came from him was small and pitiful. A little boy not wanting to admit he’d been hurt, and in more than one way.

The gate was more decorative than secure. It made for an easy climb. It was the lasers playing along their backs that were the real trouble.

“Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop,” she hissed through her teeth.

“Do you see me stopping?” he yelled, but there was no snark now, just pain.

They topped the gate and simply dropped to the other side and crawled out of the range of the lasers.

“Get up. Get up,” she urged. “This way. Just run.”

The landing pad came into view. Lucy was there and it didn’t look as though she was tethered. Kalla Seyon Trus’s overconfidence showing again.

 _Cliché number four, check_ , thought Dutch.

Lucy was already lowering her boarding ramp as they approached. They both dropped to the floor of the cargo hold and it was then that she saw the riddle of angry red lines across Johnny’s back through the shreds of his shirt, none of them bleeding, cauterized.

“Lucy, get us the hells out of here,” Dutch croaked.

   “ _Dutch, you and Johnny are injured_ ,” Lucy replied, with what passed for computerized concern.

“Later. Get us out of here now!” Dutch yelled.

Lucy lifted from the pad with an alarming pitch to one side.

“ _Dutch, we are being pursued. I recommend you and Johnny strap into the crash seats on the rear wall. This won’t be fun._ ”

Lucy wasn’t kidding. They stumbled over to the crash seats, Johnny falling once before making it into the seat. He winced dramatically at the pain in his back, but buckled the four-point safety harness and then the lap harness. Dutch did the same.

It was Johnny who said, “Punch it, Lucy! Do whatever you need to do. Just try not to kill us.”

“ _Punching now_ ,” Lucy replied.

There was a sickening sideways press into the seats, and then another move that left them weightless for several seconds before they were slammed into the opposite side with what felt like more gees than a human body could handle.

The last thing Dutch saw was Johnny, his hands holding for dear life to his harness, and then his head went limp as he lost consciousness. A second later, so did Dutch.


	10. The Dénouement

Days passed. Dutch didn’t dare land Lucy on Westerly for fear of retaliation, though she knew as RAC agents they had protection, a system upon which they could rely. If they had to, she and Johnny could always hole up on the Rack cruiser until the heat passed. She certainly had the joy to pay for it.

In truth, it was about protecting Johnny.He stayed in his room and as long as they were floating in space, he had reason to stay there and she had reason to let him. There were supplies enough onboard to hide out for a few weeks.

She paused in front of Johnny’s door, once again, fighting with herself. She didn’t know what to say to him. Lucy had healed the marks on his back and on his arm.There would forever be a ghostly scribble of pale lines, but physically he was whole and sound.

It was his heart that was broken, and Dutch felt guilty that she had broken it.

She turned to leave, once again, only this time the door opened.

Johnny looked frail and worn. His eyes were dimmer than she remembered them and that crushed her. 

“Lucy told me you were there,” he said.

Dutch looked up at the ceiling and thought, _traitor!_

“You couldn’t have known this was going to happen, Dutch, and my mouth didn’t exactly help things,” he said, but it was oddly flat, hollow.

“I _should_ have known better, Johnny.I should have taken better care of you,” she said and her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve been on my own for a long time and I forget other people have other lives and aren’t like me.”

He looked up at her, the dark circles under his eyes making him seem thin and gaunt. “Dutch, I didn’t exactly have the best life growing up either. I know what shitty people are like. I’ll be okay, just maybe not today.”

That admission, which she knew was meant to let her off the hook, only stabbed a cold claw of pain into her gut. She didn’t know what else to do so she reached for him and hugged him to her with all her strength.Tears rolled from her cheeks. Tears for having hurt her friend whom she loved, tears because she _had_ a friend to love.He shook in her embrace. Men cry so differently than women. Well, other women. Dutch didn’t think she cried like other women either. He tried to control it as best he could. She could feel that. But he could only keep that up for a few seconds before it came in hard sobs.

She braced for it. Whatever came, she would take it. The storm rolled and rumbled in his chest, and she held him all the tighter. He had to know that she was one person in his life who would never leave him, never let go.

The storm came, and it passed.He let go first and Dutch pulled back.He was puffy-eyed, and small, and young, and innocent, and beautiful.

She kissed his forehead. “I love you, Johnny.”

He smiled an uncomfortable, goofy smile. “Don’t go getting any ideas now,” he said.

She swatted his shoulder, feigning insult and scandal.

Moments passed.She reached into her pocket and pulled out the thing the blond woman had given her.It was a holocrystal.

“Madame Ponytail gave it to me before we made our escape. Pretty sure it’s for you.”

Johnny stared at it like it was a strange animal, though she knew that he knew perfectly well what it was.When it looked like he wasn't going to take it, she placed it on a small shelf that was part of the wall in Johnny’s bunk room.She made to leave again, to give him privacy to watch it.He stopped her.

“I don’t want to watch it alone.Will you stay?” he asked.

“Of course. You sure? Could be private.”

“I’m sure.”

He pulled a small folding table out of the wall and grabbed a holoreader from a pile of sundry tech toys.He slipped the crystal into the top and turned the machine on.  They sat together on his bunk to watch.  Dutch took his hand into hers, lacing their fingers. 

Ishaan materialized above the reader. He wore a sumptuous crimson sarong with mandala patterns in gold and a heavy gold belt, a sash of the same crimson and gold material draped over one arm. He was shirtless and muscular and breathtaking. Dutch felt a flush fill her cheeks and glanced at Johnny from the corner of her eye.

The image spoke. “Johnny, I’m sorry this ended as it did, but I will never be sorry for the time I spent with you and your beautiful friends. My sisters now know of the boy with the piercing blue eyes who told me that sister means unconditional love. That is why Saanchi risked herself to help you escape. She said your karma, your purpose in our meeting, was to show us that there are still good and kind people in the universe. We may never meet again in this life, Johnny, but we have many lives to live, many paths to take, and I will carry the smell of your skin, the warmth of your touch, and the sweetness of your kisses with me forever. I know our paths will cross again in another life. You have been a blessing, and blessings are like lotus flowers.  Once they take root, they bloom again and again.”

The image stopped and faded.Tears streamed freely down both their faces.

Dutch sniffed and asked, “What did he mean about sister meaning unconditional love?”

“He asked me why I call you my sister, what that means to me, and that’s what I told him,” Johnny’s smile crinkled the corners of his tear-puffy eyes.

   Dutch didn’t say anything, not trusting her voice.She just nodded and kissed him on the cheek. 

 _That’s how I feel too, little brother_.


End file.
